


kiss the cook, or something like it

by sixteenpersonfrozenlasagna



Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Cooking, Domestic, M/M, idk just some dumb shit i wrote while i had to wait at an airport for 2 hours, it's not my Best but folks told me i should crosspost from tumblr here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23391802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixteenpersonfrozenlasagna/pseuds/sixteenpersonfrozenlasagna
Summary: Just some domestic cooking things that turn a little spicy, because all I write is horny twrp content. This isn't a good summary. It is 4:15 ante meridiem and I'm tired.
Relationships: Commander Meouch/Lord Phobos (TWRP)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	kiss the cook, or something like it

**Author's Note:**

> was stuck at an airport for a few hours a while back and took writing requests on tumblr and this was one of them  
> tumblr @ howdy-hogan go bully me to write actual content

Each of them took their turns cooking for everyone, usually sharing different cuisines from their home planets (or the closest they can come to it; sometimes you have to substitute ingredients and it comes out a little odd and everyone smiles and pretends it’s good but nobody really knows how they feel about it, only that “good” is maybe not the first word that would come to mind). Sung’s a vegetarian, Phobos is a pretty picky eater, and Havve straight up doesn’t need eat at all (sometimes he will, though, just for the hell of it). So when it comes to Meouch to make dinner that night, he had a lot on his plate, so to speak, in terms of making something everyone will enjoy.

He racked his brain for ideas. He eats meat, mostly, and so did his species, which essentially eliminated any of those options for Sung. Phobos is some neo-pythagorean who won’t eat beans, for whatever reason. He threw Havve’s wants out of the question– if he didn’t like it, he didn’t have to eat it. Literally. Dietary restrictions aside, they had nearly nothing left in the house and there was no way he was getting his ass to the store.

He searches through the cabinets, the fridge, the counters, trying to size up what he was working with. He ends up setting a pot pasta boiling and starts cutting the few vegetables left in the house, deciding he’d figure it out on the fly. Phobos walks into the kitchen, intrigued by the sounds of cabinets opening and closing as Meouch searched for _any_ inspiration. He startles Meouch, who turns abruptly at him and nearly slashes him with the knife.

“Dude, what the hell? You can’t sneak up on me like that!”

Phobos just shrugs, face unreadable under his helmet. He tilts his head and points curiously to the cutting board.

“Oh, dinner.”

Phobos puts his hands on his hips, playfully annoyed.

Meouch smiles and sets down his knife on the counter. He reaches his hands and puts them atop Phobos’, making the other man turn his head to the side.

“I mean… there’s something _else_ I’d rather be eating,” voice lowering to hardly above a whisper.

The small bit of exposed skin under Phobos’ helmet turns red. Meouch pulls him in closer, hands wrapping around his waist.

The pasta starts to boil over the edge of the pot, splashing the top of the stove, steam pluming up through the kitchen. Meouch grabs a lid and covers it, lifting the pot from the burner. Phobos stands behind him, chuckling silently to himself.

“Shut up, bud.”

Phobos smiles slightly and lifts his hands, signing the words [MAKE ME].

“Oh, I will.”


End file.
